Previously on 88,000 Acres of Bad Shit.
I have lost both my son and husband. They’re not dead but I have lost them both physically and emotionally. My husband; Ifuen Kudzu has been on the run for months now. I can comfortably say that he disappeared into thin air. He woke up one morning packed his shit and said that he was going to visit his uncle. I’ve never seen him to this day. My one and only son Akala is on an emotional roller coaster. He resents me for making him marry Nneka. I only did what I thought was best for him. After all doesn’t a parent know what’s best for their child?
He’s quite careless, a spendthrift and his love for women and liquor knows no bounds. He irks me with such behaviors. He has a good head for business. Money has never been his problem. I was worried on how he spent it. He likes fine things and tastes in life. Of course that part of him came from me. You might think he is a spoiled braggart. He doesn’t correlate well with his other siblings apart from his younger sister. Four of his sisters have been married. I wonder what went wrong with him.
Things haven’t been so rosy when it comes to my relationship with him. He seems distant and withdrawn. He no longer comes home to visit. Instead he usually prefers if his younger sister Ophelia visits him. Time and time again I’m always jerked from reality and wonder how the two get a long regarding that their personalities are worlds apart. They both adore each other but show it in different forms. Ophelia is much more of an introvert, while Akala,…..well God knows.
Their marriage is on the brink of destruction. It is only held by a thin string of Nneka’s desperation to be loved and wanted. I’m getting old and my years are slowly sinking in with each sunset. I have no grandchildren. None of my married daughters have sired any children and their in-laws are constant threatening them that they would return the bride price. Some of my son in-laws have declared that they would marry second wives if they didn’t get children. I thought that if I pushed Akala to marry perhaps he would have given me grandchildren but alas. None. I long to have my compound filled with laughter, shrieks and giggles of little children.
Usually I’m not shocked of Akala’s antics. I got used to them from when he was young. It wasn’t his first time that he had unsuccessfully tried to run away from his marriage. I must applaud Nneka for her great tracking skills. She’s a good daughter and takes care of me well. Anything I need she obliges. She pampers me well and she is crafty and scheming. I was concerned when they didn’t come home for the weekend. Akala had an accident and his car was totaled. He blames Nneka for the misfortune that befell on him and his car. I highly doubt if Nneka would kill my son. He must’ve been under the influence of alcohol when all that occurred. Three days in a row without communication nor a word from him pestered my conscience. I tried calling him but his phone was off. I called Nneka to find his whereabouts only to find the happy fool hold up in a hospital living his fetished life.
Why run to a bloody hospital if all he needed was space and peace of mind? This was a new one. He got us on this one. He wasn’t pleased when he saw us. He out-rightly told us to leave. How rude of him. We eventually left him to his own devices. He must’ve had a wonderful week of gawking at the ample bottoms of nurses. I really hope that he hasn’t lied his way into the pants of any of the hospital’s attendants .He’s a real pervert. Well he knows how to have his way with women.
I’m trying my best to make things work between them. Maybe a child would bring them together. What would people say if their marriage dissolves? I would be a laughing stock and the center of gossip in every social gathering within this wretched village. Gossip in these parts travel faster than a politician’s money during the campaign period.
I’ll have to pay them a visit this weekend. I don’t need permission cause Nneka readily welcomes me to their home and I would bring Ophelia as requested. I hate the fact that I have to drive a hundred and fifty miles to their place. Maybe his younger sister would raise his spirits up and finally he would be able to interact with other fellow humans.
It’s been long since I last saw him smile or laugh. There’s a certain calm steadiness in his voice that doesn’t come with the raucous laughter indicating something is wrong. Something doesn’t feel right and I feel torn and apart and I don’t know what to do.
I’m stuck at crossroads of consequences brought by my own choices. My hands feel heavy whenever I think of what has become of me. My mistake was that I humiliated him and gave him the most potent form of hate fueled with the rage of a millennia. Shame.
I; Francesca Kudzu just want to go back into time when everything fell into place. Even if it means fighting tooth and nail to hold and glue everything in place, then I’ll do it. Whatever it takes to have a perfect picture on the wall without cracks.